Just Another Weakness
by Promise in Such Sweat
Summary: Uchiha Itachi is a man without many weaknesses, so when he recognizes a weakness of his he's quick to extinguish it. Violence, gore, adult themes, yaoi. ItaDei.


"You mean absolutely nothing to me," Uchiha Itachi whispered in the blonde man's small soft ear, accompanying the statement with a blow to his stomach. They were both nude, Deidara sitting on a dirty white mess of sheets, Itachi standing on the stained cheesy blue carpet of a sleazy motel located somewhere to the North East of Amegakure. None of that mattered. All that mattered was Itachi, standing above Deidara. Deidara looked like a fucked up doll that you would find a pedophile selling on the black market. His long, beautiful blonde locks of hair fell everywhere; it stuck to his face with sweat as its glue, it fell on the bed like a waterfall, several strands of hair had been pulled out. His skin was purple with bruises, brown with hickies, red with blood from deep flesh wounds, pale white with fear. He was a rainbow of a beaten man, and Itachi was hell bent on breaking him much more.

Itachi's hand flew up with the grace and speed that could only be expected of an Uchiha. A millisecond ago, the hand was by his side calmly twisting his Akatsuki ring in circles, and then it was buried deep in the blonde mess of Deiedara, pulling the younger man towards him. Deidara flinched, barely stuttering out a, "W-What do you w-want from m-me?" before he was dealt yet another blow to his stomach.

Itachi scoffed, pushing his hair falling free from the low pony tail back into order with his free hand. "I don't want anything, _Dei-chan_," he stated calmly, emphasizing his name. Deidara winced and tried to pull back, but was only punished with a slap in the face. "I don't want anything," he stated again, "but I will get something." And with the blonde tangled mess in his hands, he forced the lean man to his knees on the ugly carpet Itachi stood on. The movement was so quick and sudden that Deidara lost his balance and fell face first into Itachi's flaccid dick, still with bits of cum dripping off the head. Itachi paid no mind; instead he let go of his hair finally and bent over him. He had Deidara's wrists pinned to the bed's edge before he could even think about saying "stop".

"Why are you doing th-this to me," Deidara asked, his voice cracking. A few tears betrayed his eyes and leaked down his face. The tears didn't faze Itachi at all. He only seemed to grab his wrists harder. There was a cracking and crunching of bone. How could they have gotten in this situation, Deidara wondered. Him and Itachi, they had been fuck buddies since they both first joined the Akatsuki. Not really "friends" by any sense of the meaning, but they both had urges they needed to get off their backs, frustration they needed to take out on another. They met up once a month, maybe twice if they weren't busy at a shitty motel and fucked and parted. There were never words. There certainly was never _this_. This fighting, this helplessness that Deidara certainly felt, this _fear_.

Itachi pondered Deidara's question, loosening his grip only slightly on the man's wrists. "Because you deserve it," he finally responded. There was a moment where Itachi could have sworn he saw some kind of resistance in the man, some part of Deidara that wanted to fight the notion that he somehow deserved this abuse, but he kicked him hard in the kneecap, successfully extinguishing that light. "You slept with Sasori." It was finally out. The true reason. There were no emotions readily available in Itachi's eyes, but Deidara had known Itachi long enough to know that he was pissed off to say the least. Enraged. Deidara, for the first time all that night, actually feared for his life.

Deidara opened his mouth, offering a small explanation, "But- but, we weren't exclusive to e-each other, I thought, and- and he app-approached me and—" he was cut off by the hardest punch of the night right in his nose. There was a large crunching noise, immediately followed by a river of beautiful dark blood flowing from his broken nose.

"I didn't ask for a fucking excuse, _Dei-chan_. You have betrayed me, and you will die here." There was nothing but calmness in his voice, in his precise hits, in his slow, steady sex he had with Deidara moments before all the light was extinguished from his eyes all together.

Why were they here? In the end, it didn't matter. How Itachi knew he slept with Sasori? It didn't matter. Why Itachi was pissed off? It didn't matter.

None of it mattered.

Deidara was found later that evening, his bloody battered body barely recognizable, semen leaking from every open orifice in his body. Cause of death was determined from blood loss, reasonable cause and any suspects unknown. Itachi walked out of that sleazy, shitty motel North East of Amekagure with a small metaphorical bounce in his step. _Another weakness out of the way_, he thought to himself. He still had one more thing to deal with, though. Sasori.


End file.
